Stories Of...Syracusa

A group of Mormon elders just passed by me on the island. I almost wanted to whisper possessively “What are you doing here?” as if I was the only American that had “claim” to this paradise. I don’t want other Americans to mess it up. 

Sidebar: 2 things. 

1. Syracusa is only paradise to tourists. 
2. I’m quite aware of the Columbus colonizer America-centricness of it all. 

Okay back to the story. 

Bold choice to come to one of the most Roman Catholic parts of the world. Everyone’s had their fair share of conquering on this island. The Arabs, the Greeks, the Spanish, the Romans. And now, apparently, the Mormons. Bless their hearts for trying.

A few American girls were with them too. One of the girls looked to me, eager eyed  and so earnestly smiled and mouthed “ciao”.  I don’t know why but I went along with it. I smiled and then sort of slouched back into my chair as a mark of both comfort and familiarity. I relished in the fact that she mistook me for a local.

It made me chuckle. Seeing myself in her. I now understood how everyone else felt when I gawked and gaped at them. Though, the neighbors and cafe patrons stare at me too, to be fair. Oh, the innocence and ignorance of it all. How we seek for understanding and connection. And try our hardest with the little we know. 


                                                                                                                                               Stories of Syracusa
                                                                                                                               Monday, November 15, 2021